Questa è La Vita
by Clockwork Hobbit
Summary: America at the turn of the 20th century was thought by many people to be the land of opportunity, and immigration exploded. When Ludwig steps off the boat at Ellis Island to join his brother in New York City, he never imagines what he will find in the city of hope, chances, and organized crime. AU.
1. Chapter 1

_My son and his wife are dead. Killed. And I am sure that whoever killed them will be coming for the boys next. God, to kill them, kill two helpless children...they are so young, five and three. I know that I am in a dangerous business. After all, it got my family killed. I cannot get out so easily-this was how I was raised. This is all I know how to do. But I cannot stay here._

_I have heard of an American branch, in New York. Perhaps I will go there, and take the boys with me. I will never rise far here, but America is the land of opportunity. I can make a new life for myself there, for myself and these boys._

_I owe my dead child that much. I owe his children that much. I can get tickets to America for us. It will be done._

* * *

**Yes, I know this is damn short. It's just a prologue, a teaser. Stick around for actual chapters.**


	2. Chapter 2

The cheers pulled Ludwig to the top deck of the boat. He had been on the infernal thing for far too long, long enough that the sounds of the ship didn't bother him anymore, or even make him wonder that was happening, but the eighteen-year-old had to admit to curiosity about the reason everyone was cheering.

He managed to get up to the rail, fighting his way through the crowds of people. There he saw her, huge, copper turned green, her lamp raised as a beacon of hope to the people crushed against the rails of the ship. The Statue of Liberty. They had finally reached America.

The woman beside him was reciting something in English. "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

He didn't understand the words, but he understood the sentiment, the hope in the woman's voice. Hope of a new life in America.

* * *

Before long Ludwig found himself being shoved onto a ferry to go to Ellis Island. Gilbert had written and told him this would happen. He would be checked for disease, among other things. He was a little nervous, but he was also sure that he would pass.

They were then ushered off the ferry and into medical inspections. As he had thought, Ludwig passed those with no issues-he was healthy and strong from manual labor he had done before coming to America.

The questions were another matter. Luckily, there was an interpreter there to help those immigrants who didn't speak English, which made things much easier for him.

_What is your name?_ Ludwig Beilschmidt. _How old are you?_ Eighteen. _What country are you from?_ Germany. _Are you meeting a relative here in America?_ Yes. _Who?_ My older brother, Gilbert. _Have you been in a prison, almshouse, or institution for care of the insane?_ No.

Finally, a whole list of questions later, he was allowed to go. Gilbert had promised to meet him at Ellis Island, and Ludwig knew that his brother would be easy enough to pick out. After all, Ludwig didn't think that he would encounter many albinos, even in America.

Almost as soon as Ludwig stepped out of the building, he heard his name shouted, and headed in the direction of the voice. There he was nearly tackled by his older brother.

"Gil!" he exclaimed, holding the other. He would never had admitted it to anyone back home, but he had missed his obnoxious big brother.

"Welcome to America, little brother," Gil cheered. "We have so many chances here. The roaring twenties will be good to us!"

* * *

Gilbert led Ludwig to his home, now their home, a two-room apartment in a tenement building. "This is it," he admitted. "One bedroom, and the kitchen is in the living room. We share the water closet with the rest of the floor." He eyed Ludwig. "But, hey, we're in America!" He grinned wildly.

"Let me give you a few pointers," he said casually, falling onto the beat-up sofa. "One, Arthur Kirkland, who runs the corner grocery, is hiring. I work next door, at the butcher's, and when Arthur heard you were coming over, he said to see him if you need a job. Most people in this neighborhood are good fellows. We look out for each other. Not many true-born Americans, though. They stick to their own. These twins are in and out of Arthur's store, though. Alfred and Matthew. Al's American, a great guy. Matt's Canadian-we don't ask."

Ludwig nodded, fixing the names in his memory. "Will it matter for Arthur that I don't speak English?"

Gilbert shook his head. "You can start off doing the heavy lifting-Arthur's a stick; he can't do it himself-and stocking shelves. Neither of those really require any English. Oh, and there's one really big thing you have to know."

"What is that?" Ludwig asked.

"Stay away from the Vargas brothers," Gilbert warned him. "I don't care who else you meet here, but stay away from them. That's very important."

Ludwig frowned. "Why?"

"Their grandfather raised them."

"So?" Ludwig didn't understand the problem. What did it matter that these Vargas brothers had been raised by their grandfather? It wasn't like Gilbert to discriminate like that, because of circumstances that could not be helped. He had received enough hell for being albino to know to avoid discrimination.

"Their grandfather runs the Italian Mafia here in New York. Those boys, young as they are, are mob bosses."


End file.
